Brothers Defend
by Galahad
Summary: There might be some language. This is it. Hopefully a satisfactory conclusion to what I hope has been, thus far, an entertaining tale. Pay heed to the cautionary paragraph at the beginning, and I make no money from my work, and the characters aren't mi
1. Prologue

Before I get on with the story, it is necessary to clarify several continuity issues. This story began way back about a year and a half ago. As a result, particular issues, at least with regards to the DC side of it, must be clarified. Donna Troy is still dead, and YJ has been disbanded. The new Titans and Outsiders exist. Aquaman is still out of touch with Atlantis, which is run by Gamenae followers. Luthor is President, but the issues arising from the Batman/Superman comic, where the World's Finest are going head to head with Luthor have not happened. Lets just say its because Superman has been obsessed with taking out Apocalypse. Kyle Rayner is still a member of the JL, as he believed he needed to stay close to the JL after his excursion into Marvel-verse, and instead put John Stewart as special liason between Guardians and Lanterns, due to his experience as a Darkstar and as a Corpsman from before Parallax. Nightwing is still doing his dance with Oracle, and is still employed by the BPD. I think that about covers it, but if the natural flow of the story uncovers some other problem, let me know. Now. On with the story.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Superman stared out into the vastness of space. It had been about 36 hours since the Titans and Nightwing returned from their otherworldly excursion. While the public still did not know about what was coming (What would be the point? There was nothing they could do, except panic, which would be counterproductive), the Justice League had been busy; mobilizing for the war that they were told was going to come. No, they stayed blissfully unaware. Oracle had been calling/communicating with anyone who had ever worn a suit on earth, while members of the Justice League were communicating with all of their allies in space. Wonder Woman was currently on New Genesis, hopefully getting Orion, Barda, and Mister Miracle to come back and lend support. Green Lantern was on Oa, preparing the Corp. J'onn was on Rann, and Flash was pulling Monitor duty and acting as central, as his reflexes could deal with all of the incoming messages. Batman was working with all of the other thinker-heroes, such as Ray Palmer, to devise as many contingencies and devices as possible. That left Superman alone in the Tower, his first rest since hearing the news from Nightwing.  
  
He didn't want to go home...Clark Kent had managed to convince his wife to visit his parents until the war was over. Normally, you needed more than the powers of Superman to convince "Bulldog" Lane to miss out on a story, but something in Kent's bespectled eyes told Lane that maybe just this once she better stay out of this one. It was a look she had only seen once before, and had hoped to never see again. So she went to Kansas, to weather the storm with the Kents.  
  
However, Kal-El was not thinking about his human wife or his adoptive parents, but on a being that he had met months prior. They had fought, and both had gone to the limits of their power, testing their endurance. They were a study in contrasts, one representing the light and the possibilities of life, the other darkness and the cold embrace of death. Hope and despair. Mercy and violence. Good and evil.  
  
Superman thought of Apocalypse.  
  
It was rare that Superman felt true rage. Few could drive him to it. Luthor was one. Darkseid another. However, what Apocalypse tapped into during their limited time together was more primal than the Man of Tomorrow had ever experienced. Apocalypse had haunted Kal-El's nightmares since the incident, and Superman had driven himself harder than ever on the occasions he trained. He had taken a decidedly more "Bat" approach in studying his moves and actions, and kept trying to devise a means to beat Apocalypse should they ever meet again.  
  
Superman had been compelled to kill twice, both times to save a world from a threat where there was no other option. Superman was now prepared to do it again for the third time in his most remarkable life.  
  
Superman clenched his fists and closed his eyes. Murmuring what some might consider a silent prayer and reopened his eyes and whispered one word.  
  
"Apocalypse."  
  
************************************************************************  
  
It was 10 o'clock at night at the grounds outside of the Xavier institute. There was a full moon out, and Wolverine was on the prowl. On night's like these, Wolverine was not out to hunt or kill, but to clear his head. If you were to suggest he was "communing with nature," he would hit you in the gut, he would hit you, but it was essentially true.  
  
Wolverine's past 36 hours had been busy. Since Cap and Webhead had returned, the mansion had been turned upside down. Everyone who had ever been an X-Man, or had ties with the team and no other, had converged on the property, rallying to the call issued.  
  
So it was to be war. Logan could accept that. He had been in war before, and if he survived this one, he was sure he would go through it again. And yeah, he would be on the same side as the Batpansy, but hey, he had been on the one-eyed boyscout's team for years, so Wolverine was sure that he would be fine.  
  
Beside, Wolverine would have a chance to do what he did best; brawl. From the description he got from Cap, this was going to be the biggest brawl ever. And the gloves were coming off. No more stopping after first blood. It was to the finish. Wolverine made no distinctions like Chuck did; he was not misunderstood and he was not a product of a hurtful, corrupting society. He was a killer, and now he was going to return to what he did best, and satiate a thirst he had not quenched for decades.  
  
It was the pre-war maneuvers that were killing Wolverine. Who was going to be grouped with who. Chain of command. What to expect as threats (which was funny cause no one really knew.) Who was good and who was not. That last question utilized a bunch of reports containing names, photos, and powers of beings from Bat-pansy's world, sent over on, what Wolverine assumed, was the cosmic version of a fax machine.  
  
But Wolverine didn't care about that anymore. He stared up at the full moon, and unsheathed his adamantium claws. In mere days, he would once again get to do what he was best at.  
  
And if he could save existence that would be fine to.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Craig Hendrickson took a breather at Picadilly Circus in London and looked around. While he may have the powers of....well he did not like saying the "G" word, but lets just say of something REALLY powerful, he still did not know what they all were. Craig knew that he had to use some of his powers if he were going to save his home (the instantaneous travel and ability to slow down time were REALLY cool), he was really hesitant to see the extent of them.  
  
As he read the map, Craig again went over the thought process in his head. There was a reason that he was not given superpowers on his homeworld, he thought. Good reasons, and he had to respect that. While he understood he was in an unusual situation with unusual gifts, Craig did not want to tempt himself. Power corrupts and all that.  
  
Hell, to be blunt, he was terrified, Craig admitted to himself as he walked down a particularly dark street. He had no idea how to use these powers. He could accidentally nuke Idaho or something if he sneezed. Really, he was only using the powers that had come to him instantaneously. He figured that that would be all he needed.  
  
However, he felt that there was there. He felt forces stirring inside him that terrified him. Sometimes, it took all of his strength to hold it in, and it hurt him to do it. This just reinforced that he could never tap into whatever was inside him, unless he had no other choice.  
  
And Craig was working hard to make sure he would never have to tap into those forces. Over the past two days, he had been making contacts and researching the opposition. He had ferreted out one spy (one that disappointed him as he had been one of his favorite characters) and got one stop gap measure to help fortify his plan. Craig thought it was a good plan. But he needed one more thing. One more ace in the hole that would allow him to pull this off.  
  
Craig walked into the bar, definitely on the wrong side of the tracks. No one looked up from their beer, and he didn't expect them to. He looked around the bar, and found who he was looking for and walked towards him.  
  
Moving towards the figure in the smoky haze, Craig saw the figure in the trench coat finish his pint, and pull out one of his trademark cigarettes and light them up. Waving the match out, the man took a long drag and blew the smoke out through his nostrils, enjoying the sensation. Noticing the young man besides him, the man turned and looked at him.  
  
"And what the bloody hell are you supposed to be?"  
  
"John Constantine, we need to have a talk," said Hendrickson, pulling up a stool. 


	2. Part I

Long chapter. Hope it goes well.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
The Amazing Spiderman swung through New York on his way to a meeting JJJ would kill to be at, or even know about. Representatives of every major superhero organization were going to be appear at Avengers Mansion to discuss the defense of everything. Spiderman, until a few months ago a relative small timer, was going as not merely a spectator, but as a major leader.  
  
Peter Parker considered his evolution as a superhero over the past months as he effortlessly executed complex acrobatics high above the streets of New York. It started with what was being called the "Occupation of New York," where Spiderman led the superheroes of his world against the archvillain occupiers, with a special guest appearance by the Justice League. The shock of being asked to lead did not really hit until after the battle, and it shook up the arachnid hero for months. That was until he had taken a trip with Captain America and heroes from a brother existence to THE original existence, from which all others sprung. Sent to find a champion to save, well, everything, Spiderman came to grips with his newfound position and responsibilities, and was beginning feel comfortable with it.  
  
It was two days after his personal awakening, and Spiderman had not a lot of time to bask in the glow. War was coming, and war unlike anything he had experienced. He had fought muggers, pickpockets, and the occasional superpowered baddy, but the legions of hell was not something he was used to. However, with the new confidence he had gained in his travels, and the welcome task of "mobilizing the troops," Parker was too busy to consider the possible repercussions of losing this battle; namely that everyone and everything that the Spider held dear would be consigned to hell.  
  
But we digress.  
  
Spiderman did a neat flip and landed on the roof of Avengers' mansion. Wallcrawling to and open window, Parker entered and was greeted by the Avengers' gentleman's gentleman, the "veddy English" Edwin Jarvis. "Good day, Master Spiderman. The assembled heroes are waiting below. If you would follow me."  
  
Jarvis led the webslinger to the elevator that led to the meeting room of the Avengers in the basement. The two rode in silence, as an elderly British gentleman had little to say to a Generation X New Yorker, and both were wrapped up in their own thoughts. Few people knew about the upcoming war, for reasons of security and to avoid panic, and Jarvis and Parker were two of those persons. Both were extremely focused on their upcoming duties, and did not have the time to make polite small talk.  
  
When the doors opened, Jarvis made a gesture to allow Parker to pass and enter into the meeting room first. Parker was the last to arrive. Obviously, the Avengers were all present, along with the Fantastic Four. Nick Fury, SHIELD's representative was deep in conversation with Professor Charles Xavier, Wolverine, and Cyclops, the X-Men delegation. Silver Surfer, Prince Namor of Atlantis, and Doctor Strange, the sometime members of the group known as the Defenders were also in their own groups discussing the events that were upcoming. The powers represented in this room could level a mountain range, subdue armies, and hold off forces of nature.  
  
Spiderman really hoped it would be enough.  
  
Captain America cleared his throat and addressed the assembly. "Now that we are all here," Rogers began, "lets get started. If you would all take your seats." He paused as the assembled heroes moved for their chairs, although Wolverine remained standing. "We all know why we are here, lets get down to business. Did everyone receive those files we sent out?" Seeing everyone nod, except for Wolverine, Cap continued. "Good. Can I also assume that everyone was able to contact everyone assigned to them without too many problems?" Seeing the heroes show assent again, the leader of the Avengers continued. "Outstanding. Richard, you were in charge of scientific solutions, what do you...."  
  
"Excuse me, Captain," Craig interrupted, "but we have some issues to resolve first." Hendrickson stood out, as he was the only person not wearing spandex or a well pressed suit. Instead, he was decked out in a pair of jeans, a sweater, a leather jacket, some hiking boots, and a baseball cap. He would not stand out in a city like New York, but among a group of gaudily clad heroes, as arch villains were fond of calling them, he was not the norm. The fact that Craig was able to breach the "fortress" of the Avengers, and sneak into a room containing some of the most powerful heroes on the planet was not lost on the group.  
  
Captain America stood and approached the young man from the other universe. "Hello Craig," Rogers said. "Thanks for coming by." The WWII veteran turned and again addressed the crowd. "This is Craig Hendrickson, the young man we brought from the Mother Existence. He is the one who is going to be coordinating the groups here and on our counter-part existence. Craig the floor is yours."  
  
Hendrickson felt a weird sense of vertigo as he looked around at the group. These were all individuals that he knew only as figments of his imagination or as figures made up of paper and ink. While he had visited all of them discreetly to determine what they were up to in their preparations for the war, Craig was still detached to an extent up tot that extent. It had taken a feel of a case study that he would do back home. A life-like situation that needed to be resolved, but without any emotional attachment as it was not "real." However, now that he was truly in their presence, the passiveness departed and a well of insecurity and doubt sprung within him.  
  
At first, that is.  
  
But Craig knew all of these figures...had seen their development on the pages of his favorite comic books. Over the past few days he had seen them in the flesh, and had seen them interact. By now, they were very human. To them, with the otherworldly powers that the Spectre and Tribunal had promised him in front of Captain America, Spiderman, and the Titans, they almost viewed him as a godlike figure. They were counting on him to lead and get them through whatever the hell Hell was going to throw at them. He knew them a lot better than they knew him. First impressions mattered, his professors/parents/friends/self-help gurus told him. If he was going to lead them, if he was going to help them win, he would have to display confidence and consideration that he did not necessarily feel.  
  
Hendrickson stared at all of the heroes in the eye or eye, letting his gaze linger on Wolverine the longest. Craig knew that if he was to win over the crowd entire confidence, he would have to be able to handle the disagreeable Canadian. Craig nodded and began. "Thank you Cap. Ladies and gentlemen let me begin by saying how much of an honor it is to be working with you. Where I come from, many of your deeds, although viewed as fictional, do set a standard of heroism. While I could wax on and belabor these points, we have work to do. Let me just say I have full confidence in you, and I hope that as time passes you will have similar confidence in me.  
  
"That being said, I have news regarding our status. Over the past 48 hours, I have utilized my newly granted abilities to gather as much information as possible. I have been able to view some of the machinations of our enemies, and our own. Know that I am fully aware of all of your own preparations for the upcoming conflict, and have even had the benefit of witnessing some of these preparations. I am very impressed and happy with the strides you have made."  
  
"How do ya know what we've been doin'," growled Wolverine. "Have you been spyin' on us?"  
  
"Of course I have Logan," replied Craig. "Just because I have read about you for years, that doesn't automatically get you my trust. This is not a game, and we are fighting for not just your world, or the Brother world, but for everything. Including my world, where my family and friends are. So I am not taking any chances. Just because I think your claws are cool looking does not mean I am going to let you do whatever you want, or that I am going to trust you unless you deserve it. So I spied on the majority of you. Scanned your minds without you noticing, determined your motivations and all of your dirty little secrets. Knowing what I do, I can say that I trust the majority of you.  
  
"Now if you have a problem with my methods, Wolverine, that's too damn bad. But I don't think you do. You are not exactly a trusting soul yourself, and I think you know where I am coming from. I think you know the stakes, and I think you would rather have someone like me running the show than someone who necessarily gives a damn about privacy when set in context of a war. But if it really bugs you, we can discuss it in a manner that really puts you at ease. We can take this outside, and you can see what a being from my world can do on your planet. Now if you quit wasting my time with dumb questions, I can move along, and we can to the fighting that much quicker."  
  
Wolverine graced Craig with a feral grin. Hendrickson had been right on all counts, but what really impressed the mutant was the fact that the otherworlder did not shirk from a fight. Wolverine had challenged Hendrickson's leadership, and Craig had put it down quickly and efficiently, like a leader of a pack should. Wolverine was pretty confident now that this kid had the backbone to lead an army. With a grunt and a nod, the Canadian let Craig know he had the mutant's approval. With an imperceptible sigh of relief, Craig continued trying to look a little less severe for the not so bloodthirsty members of the group.  
  
"I am truly sorry for doing what doing what I had to do. Know that I wouldn't do this if the situation weren't dire, and the time not extremely short. I know that those of you with the powers to do what I did avoid doing so out of respect to your teammates and colleagues. I am sorry, but in a situation where existence is in peril, I had to take some shortcuts. I apologize to all of you if you think you have been taken advantage of. I did what I thought was best and necessary." Seeing the nods around the table, Craig continued.  
  
"As you may have noticed I said that I trusted "most" of you, not all. There is a reason for that. There is a traitor among you, and there has been for some time. You see this person as a friend, a confidant, and a trusted advisor." Craig waited for the cries and exclamations to subside.  
  
"Well just point him out to us," growled Wolverine, "and I'll take care of him right quick."  
  
"Hold on friend Wolverine," said Thor. "Depending on whom the traitor is, I do believe others might want to deal with the fiend."  
  
Craig raised his hand. "That will not be necessary. Steps have been taken. But now is the time to reveal the identity, don't you think 'Jarvis?'"  
  
The assembled hero base turned to look at the butler who had paled. "I am sure I do not know talking about, sir."  
  
"Don't you," asked Hendrickson as he closed in on the butler. "Edwin Jarvis was kidnapped by the Brotherhood of Evil a long time ago, and was tortured. Eventually he was brainwashed to serve the Brotherhood but was eventually saved by the Avengers. Or at least that's how the story goes.  
  
"Jarvis died a hero upon being tortured by the Brotherhood , never betraying the Avengers. The Brotherhood's masters saw an opportunity in this. The Avengers did not know their butler was dead, and the Avengers were the liason between heroes and the government, with their access to both SHIELD, the Fantastic Four, the X-Men, etc. To put a plant within the Avengers would be most ideal.  
  
"So they got a low ranking demon lackey, with the ability to absorb memories and alter his appearance so that he could be Jarvis. And he was quite adept. He was a sleeper agent, only directly interefering when necessary to ensure the freedom of key players at key times. And he gathered information on our side for their masters, information that could not be gleaned from their arts. And he has played his part to perfection."  
  
The heroes assembled slowly turned to look at 'Jarvis' who had turned from pale to a deep red. "So someone figured it out," snarled the demon, his voice slowly loosing the British accent and becoming much more gutteral. "Congratulations. I no longer have to be that limp-wristed pansy. Oh 'Iron Man?' I just want you to know that Jarvis died screaming, dirtied from wetting himself in fear and pain, you over-glorified primate." Tony Stark quietly clenched his fists in rage and made ready to blast this bastard from existence when Craig caught his eye and almost imperceptibly shook his head. The Metal Avenger relaxed and looked at his comrades and got them to do the same.  
  
The fiend from Hell continued without noticing the silent conversation. "We know your weaknesses, we know your secrets, we know you. You have nothing that will surprise us. You will be destroyed, hell will be raised, and the gates of heaven will be torn asunder. We shall ascend, and this travesty called humanity will be ended." 'Jarvis,' looking less like the Butler he had impersonated for years, and more primal, looked triumphant, and then, slightly baffled.  
  
"Trying to return home," queried Craig, sounding bored, but with a fire in his eye. "Jeeze, must be tough knowing you have to return to hell. Well if it makes you feel any better, you aren't going back."  
  
"What have you done Mother-worlder," snarled the demon, frantically making passes with his hand, trying to force himself to his Masters. "I am hindered. What have you done?!?"  
  
"Me," asked Craig. "Nothing. I want nothing to do with you. My friend on the other hand...well, he has other ideas."  
  
Slowly, but surely, the entity known as the Living Tribunal appeared behind 'Jarvis,' his face of just revenge showing. A cold smile was painted on that face, and his eyes glowed a startling blue.  
  
"Now, really, we can't have you going back reporting to your masters," said Craig, "and I am pretty sure that everyone in the room wants you dead, or worse. So we are going to opt for worse. There are things worst than hell. Living Tribunal here is going to show you. Tribunal, make it hurt."  
  
The cosmic entity nodded and the blue eyes flashed red. In a blink and without a sound, the demon Jarvis was gone.  
  
Silence gripped the room, as the middle face of the Tribunal slowly rotated to the forefront, its spirit of just revenge satisfied.  
  
"I am sorry you had to see that," said Craig. "And I am sorry for the feelings you Avengers must be feeling. A person who you trusted as a friend turned out not to be who you thought he was. But if you got rage now, that's good. If you are really pissed off, well that's even better.  
  
"I hope this demonstrates what we are up against. This scheme was not hatched over a period of days or months, but over years. It has been expertly executed and seen through. Til now. It ends now. Now we fight. We aren't stopping until our enemies are destroyed. We don't hold back. Not anymore. Some of us will die. Let's make sure more of them go first."  
  
The assembled heroes slowly nodded, and Wolverine had a feral grin that almost made him look like a kid on Christmas morning. Logan was almost downright giddy.  
  
Craig turned to Tribunal. "Get Fury, Cap, Wolverine, Strange, Spiderman, and Xavier to our designated meeting place. I got some more business to take care of, and we'll meet you there." And with that Hendrickson disappeared. 


	3. Part II

The Spectre moved through the thick atmosphere of his domain, the space between the mortal and heavenly realm. While the Spectre, or the Hal Jordan part, preferred to spend as little time as possible in this place, as it was solitary and cold, it really did cut down on the time between transportation between dimensions, and time was of the essence. Like any good soldier, and Hal Jordan was a good soldier at one time, the Spectre had carried out the instructions of the otherworldly champion to a "T." While he did not know what Craig had in mind, the presence did not know. Craig's status as an outsider that protected him from being scanned from demonic presences also extended to angels, it seemed. Being a descendent of the first human creation, a "child" of the "Mother," existence as it was, did provide benefits and powers to Craig, powers which the Spectre was sure he had not fully tapped into yet. Which concerned the Spectre and Hal Jordan.  
  
Hal Jordan had once been an ordinary man, who had been given access to great power, and eventually it had driven him mad. While he had eventually redeemed himself, at least enough to obtain the job of the Spectre to work off the rest of his sins, Jordan knew how screwed up he had been. The Spectre, an observer of humanity since the beginning of time and a punisher of their evil deeds also knew of what people were capable. This kid had been handed power which dwarfed that of a Green Lantern.........indeed dwarfed the combined powers of the GL Corp and their keepers, the Guardians. How would Craig bear the strain? And if he were to collapse, what sort of damage could he cause?  
  
Stepping out of his realm, the Spectre kept himself invisible as he strolled around the Watchtower. As expected, it was bustling with activity before the meeting that was to occur between the assembled heroes and teams asked for by Hendrickson. Ray Palmer, the Atom and former friend of Jordan, was deep in conference with Firestorm and Mr. Terrific over the aspects of new weaponry. Superman and Wonder Woman were meeting with Alan Scott, the Sentinel and interim chair of the JSA during this time of crisis, Cyborg, head of the New Teen Titans, Nightwing, leader of the New Outsiders, and Oracle, discussing coordination of heroes planet wide. J'onn and Kyle Rayner, Green Lantern back from his journey in the stars, were communicating with off-planet allies, such as Adam Strange, who had been put on alert for this crisis. Aquaman, Flash, and Plastic Man, worked the computers of the Watchtower, which were plugged into all of the sensors the earth had, from satellites to computer banks, scanning for a sign of anything. Doctor Fate, considered to be the foremost magical authority on Earth, was consulting with Zatanna and Doctor Occult. Batman stood in a corner, half hidden in shadow, keeping his own council. Hal Jordan smiled, as he thought that despite the passing of the years how few things changed.  
  
The Spectre was taken out of his daydream as a transporter tube activated. Stepping out was a man in a trenchcoat and fedora, cigarette sticking out of his mouth. Silence swept over the room as the majority of the heroes had no idea who this man was, except for the select few with Fate, and one or two others.  
  
Zatanna was the first to speak. "John? What are you doing here? Now is not a good time."  
  
"'Allo to you too, love," replied John Constantine, magician, knave, and onetime paramour of the female sorceress. "I am doin' fine, thanks for askin'."  
  
Doctor Fate stepped forward. As the most prominent mage in the room, and one who had worked with Constantine before, he had the best chance of getting Constantine out of the way. "Constantine, you are not welcome here. We are dealing with forces that you cannot even.........."  
  
"Oh shut up you bloody wanker," said Constantine pushing him aside and moving towards the conference table, where Superman and the other leaders stood. "Every time we see each other it is the same thing, and I don't have the bloody time, so piss off."  
  
Spectre, as part of the heavenly host, knew of Constantine and of what he could do, and what he had done. This was not good. Spectre moved to "step into the light," as it were, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Spinning, he turned to find Craig, dressed in a sweater and jeans staring back at him. "Sorry Hal, but this is something that is going to have to happen. Everyone in this room needs to see Constantine as Constantine, and Constantine needs to learn to play with others. Besides, this is going to be fun, so stay put." Spectre, concerned, but not wanting to openly challenge the new power just yet, acquiesced.  
  
Constantine strode up to the Superman and looked him up and down, and then put out his hand. "Right then. John Constantine. I am here to help you out of your spot of trouble."  
  
Superman stared back at the trenchcoated man. He had heard rumors of someone like this Constantine, vague unsubstantiated stories of a brutish man who fought supernatural forces.........on both sides. Rumor had it he had beaten some really powerful demons, and angels. Superman had also done both, and knew how difficult it was, so it was really hard to reconcile the stories of this man's actions with the dirty, unkempt man before him. "Mr. Constantine," asked the Man of Steel, "how exactly do you plan on helping?"  
  
"No bloody clue," replied Constantine, sitting down in the Kryptonian's chair and propping up his feet. "Some bloke named Craig accosted me in a bar back in London, and laid out a situation with hell overrunning earth, demons poppin' out and killin', and such, and that there was a mission to stop it that could use my unique talents. So he got me one of those gizmos over there and told me to be here today for some sort of meetin."  
  
"You saw Hendrickson," asked Superman, staring intently at the Englishman. "Did he say anything else to you?"  
  
"Look, don't get your tights in a bunch," said Constantine blowing smoke into the face of Superman. "I told you what I know. What does it take to get a pint in this place?"  
  
Constantine was abruptly spun around in his chair by a scowling Bat. "You will tell us what you know, and you will tell us now!" Zatanna shook her head in her hands. This was not good. Of all of the things that could give her bad mojo, right behind screwing up the first act of her show was kicking off a save the world mission with a confrontation between Batman and John. Batman was vicious, brutal and relentless, and Constantine was too experienced, too confident, and too stupid to care.  
  
Constantine took a long drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke into the Batman's visage. Then in cool and even tones, the magus said, "look old son, I have faced actual demons.........a guy in tights and with his underwear outside his pants is not going to intimidate me. So either go get me a pint or sod off."  
  
Rayner and West regarded each other from across the room. They had seen others like Darkseid, Joker, and Superman stand up to the Batglare, but always in a stare down sort of way. Those people also had the advantage of being either crazy or superpowered. Most people crumpled under it. The Flash and Green Lantern did. Meanwhile, this guy had not only withstood the glare, but ordered a beer from the guardian of Gotham. That was impressive.  
  
Before Batman could reply a voice from behind him made him turn. "Enough, we have work to do," stated Craig, one step ahead of Spectre. "As you could probably guess, I am Craig Hendrickson, and we do not have a lot of time. I have another meeting to attend to, and several of you are going to be joining me for it.  
  
"As for Mr. Constantine, most of you don't know him. I know that. As for who he is and what he can do, its complicated. Few understand it, including him. However, he has successfully faced demons the like of which make the ones in Batman's head look weak. To simplify matters, think of Dr. Fate, Zatanna, most every being who has ever dabbled in magic you have ever met, as someone who could tap into magic. Who can open up a channel, through spells or relics, into this force and use it. Constantine and his bloodline does not have to do this. The forces of time, space, magic, and luck just follow his every inclination in certain situations, which in turn makes him an almost unstoppable force at these times. He is one of the few people that can go head to head with a Neron or higher level demon and live to tell the tale. Combine this fact with his knowledge of hell, and he is indespensible. You will treat him with respect, and he will treat you with respect." At this Craig turned and faced the magus. "If he does not, he will suffer the consequences. Constantine, if I may have a few minutes of your time."  
  
As Hendrickson and Constantine stepped aside to talk, J'onn, Kyle, and Wally approached the Spectre. These three were among a privileged few to know the Spectre's former identity. "So," asked Kyle, "is Constantine and Hendrickson as good as they look?"  
  
The Spectre regarded the trio and began. "In Heaven, with regards to Constantine there is a saying. If a demon appears on Earth, there are several ways it gets sent back. For example, Superman could find it, and just beat it back to whence it came. Doctor Fate, on the other hand, weaves an extremely arcane and complex spell and pushes it through a portal. Constantine on the other hand........" Spectre paused.  
  
"Well, what," asked the Flash.  
  
"Constantine stares it straight in the eye and tells it to *&^# off. And it works." The three paused for a moment to appreciate this idea. "As for Hendrickson, well, no one really knows how good he is. He doesn't even know how good he is."  
  
Hendrickson cleared his throat and began. "I have been tracking your effort and have been extremely pleased. However, I do not have the time and patience to heap on accolades or take time to again reemphasize how important this upcoming struggle is. So I won't. As for that other 'meeting' it will be with representatives from both realities. Superman, Batman, Nightwing, Fate, and Constantine are with Spectre and myself. Everyone else, stay here and continue with your work." With a nod to Spectre, the seven beings disappeared. 


	4. Part III

The gathered heroes sat around a large table in the transdimensional meeting place used by the Spectre and Living Tribunal. Since Hendrickson's arrival on the heroes collected existence, he had done some necessary housekeeping. Now, instead of apparently standing in nothingness, the area was similar to a large meeting room found in Avengers mansion, or early incarnations of a Justice League or Justice Society meeting place. After the large oaken table, the room was decked out with paneled walls, comfortable chairs, and assorted supplies for note taking and lectures. A large screen was at the head of the table, although there was no evidence of a projector of any sort. The room was well lit, although there was no evidence of any light source.

The heroes sat around the table, the heroes from the DC universe on one side, Marvel on the other, with John Constantine at the foot. The Spectre and Living Tribunal flanked the chair at the head of the table, one on each side. The gathered individuals worked especially hard to show no inclination of fear, only thoughtful consideration and intensity dedication to doing what needed to be done. Constantine and Wolverine were exceptions to this and it was evident in their body language. Some less kind souls gathered at the table thought they might be too stupid or stubborn to feel fear. The two dark heroes appeared bored, held to their conscious state only through their addiction. They inhaled the smoke and slowly blew it out through their nostrils, and scratched at their 5 o'clock shadows. Wolverine and Constantine were men of actions, and were out of place in the tastefully decorated room. They would have much rather been in a dive with a healthy stock of booze. But they knew that action was coming, action that would soon require their unique talents. Here they men differed. Wolverine was anxious, Constantine was consigned to action, knowing that he could not ultimately escape it. Both wanted to get started.

Craig Hendrickson walked into the room from a paneled door on the wall closest to the head of the table. Behind him was a blinding light, but no one in the room, except for the guardians of the existences, could make out anything behind Craig. Hendrickson took his seat nodded to the guardians on either side. The lights suddenly dimmed, and an image appeared on the screen, seemingly from nowhere. Craig started to speak, slowly and evenly.

"Time is short, and I do not presume that I need to make any introductions. You have done your homework, and you know who everyone is. Its time you know exactly what we are going to face, what they want, and how they are going to try to get it. And how we are going to stop them.

"The two individuals behind me are Mephisto and Neron, high ranking demon entities in Hell. You are aware that our existences share a common heaven and hell. However, Mephisto has been primarily concerned the existence of Captain America, Neron with Superman's. Many of you have had some sort of knowing contact with these individuals at some point of your career.

"From what I have been able to ascertain, these two individuals have been spearheading this particular project for at least several hundred years. Over this team they have been gaining influence over key character, stationing armies, causing certain artifacts and tools to be lost or destroyed, position people and demons in key places. Ultimately, this plan will come to fruition in a few days, as early as tomorrow.

"Here is what we know the plan to be. Earth is the keystone of all existences. The one common trait. This is why what will happen will occur on Earth.

"What will happen will be invasion. The gates of hell, and the boundaries that generally protect 'reality' from these unholy forces will be torn asunder, allowing the legions of demons to swarm over your two earths. If these demons gain final dominion over these earths, ultimately it will lead to the weakening of the fabric of all realities, and hell's hordes will spread like a cancer, canceling and corrupting all life, not just on earths but in complete universes. Ultimately reality will sink into hell, and humanity and life will be corrupted. The goal of this, other than to expand the dominion of hell, is to finally grant Hell the power to overrun Heaven.

"Neron and Mephisto are lieutenants in this scheme. They are not generals. There is a power higher than this. Whether it is Satan, Beelzebub, Lucifer, whoever, I don't know. I sensed some powerful evil thing in charge when I got hit with that lightening bolt. I also sensed some counterbalance.

"The plan is simple, brutal, and obvious. In the face of overwhelming evil, you send a small group of individuals into the heart of the evil realm to deal with the more powerful leaders, while the assembled armies of man do battle and hold off the legion of doom. Its just what is done.

"We have gone a long way towards mobilizing the army to fight the hordes of hell. Just a few more moves, and we'll be ready. One is setting up Xavier with a set-up created and utilized in Superman's existence." It was then that the lights turned up, and Xavier saw a small box of what looked to be electronics, beeping quietly but constantly. Outside of that, it appeared to be otherwise unremarkable.

"This is a Motherbox," continued Craig. "The most advanced, sentient computers on any existence are Motherboxes. Xavier, you are a highly intelligent telepath, with a highly advanced machine in Cerebro that heightens your abilities. With the Motherbox, you will be, essentially, Radio Free Existence. You will be able to broadcast your thoughts and coordinate the defense of both planets with your new improved Cerebro. You will be, for all reasonable, omnipresent. You won't be all powerful, as you will not be able to directly control the armies like so many chess pieces. They will retain free will, and will retain control of their powers as they know how to use it the best. Essentially, you are like a police dispatch. You know where everyone is and where all the trouble spots are. You gotta get people to go where they need to be."

"Captain America, you will approach your world's leaders and tell them what is going on. That's fine. Superman, you will be going to all of your world's leaders. Except for Luthor. Batman, you are going to come with me to deal with him. Luthor's relationship with Superman will make this problem more difficult. I want him on board the entire time, and I have the best way of doing that."

"Then what do you need me for," asked Batman, honestly curious.

"I want an audience to appreciate it," replied Craig. "And of everyone here, you would appreciate it the most."

"After that, all you need to do is sit and wait. Let them make the first move. Just prepare for the crisis and when they move, you follow."

"As for the small group of people going to follow me into hell, well, here it is. Hell, obviously, going to be pretty brutal. I need people who know how to handle themselves, and know how to fight, with the obvious exception of Constantine, who can't fight worth, pardon the pun, a damn.

"The list as follows: Constantine as the guide. I am going to need you to bring that special family heirloom of yours. You know which one I mean." Seeing Constantine nod, he went on. "Batman and Superman. I have reasons to believe that two particular persons are going to be where we are going to end up that you really want to see." Superman clenched his fist and thought of Apocalypse while Batman showed no outside demonstration of emotion when he thought about what Al Ghul did to his family. "Wolverine, you are a brawler, who can't really be killed. After Living Tribunal and Spectre gives you a little upgrade...which I ensure you will be significantly less painful than what Weapons X put you through, and without all of that collateral damage, you come with us."

"What am I supposed to do," asked Wolverine. "I really don't do this world traveling crap."

"Kill anything that doesn't look like one of us," replied Hendrickson evenly.

"Works for me."

"That leaves two open spots, cause yes, like everything else that we have been doing, seven is a magic number. Dr. Strange, you are up cause you have magical abilities of a more conventional nature, in comparison to Constantine, and you have adequate experience." Craig didn't add that he had not had experience with Constantine, and was thus more likely to trust him than his otherworldly counterpart, Dr. Fate.

"Finally, I want Gambit to come with."

Wolverine raised his eyes at this, and asked the question that was on everybody's mind. "Why do you want Cajun? I mean me, I kind of understand, cause of the healin' factor and stuff. But Gambit never goes along on these things."

Hendrickson shook his head. "This is going to be a brawl Logan, and I want people who know how to handle themselves in a brawl, and who has the fire power to do it. Gambit's experience gives him the ability to handle himself in a brawl, and his powers gives him firepower. Ultimately, Superman, Batman, and myself or going to be occupied. Constantine too probably. Ultimately, the line is going to have be held by three guys. You and Gambit know how to work together, and know how to fight. You are also both not afraid to kill. And Strange at least has a passing familiarity with both of you, and he is not afraid to get his hands dirty.

"I could have gone with somebody else, but I don't want to totally weaken the home defense, cause hell is going to be sending almost everything they got at us. However, they are not dumb and will keep some of their troops back. Good troops. And the things these troops will know how to defend are not pansies. When we get there, all the rules of non-killing are off. The people who we are fighting against have made their choice...its time for them to reap what they sown."

Quiet filled the room. Hendrickson took the two guardians, Spectre and Living Tribunal aside, and whispered to them quietly for several minutes. At different points of the conversation they looked surprised, but kept whatever Craig said to themselves. The Motherworlder than turned to look at the other members of the room.

"This is our last full meeting. Spectre and Living Tribunal will go with Wolverine to gather Gambit, and to work the mojo they need to do to make them ready for what is coming. Constantine, Strange, Superman, you are going back to where you need to be, to prepare for what is coming. Batman, you are with me, and then I'll send you back to Gotham.

"Everyone else, prepare yourselves, and your troops for what is coming. Be prepared for anything and everything at any time. This is the last time the leadership is going to meet like this, and for most of you, this is the last time you are going to see me. It has been an honor and a privilege to work with you. May God, or whatever the counterbalance I sensed is, be with us all.

"Black op team, you have two hours. Make them count. Batman, you are with me. Everyone else, go to work."


	5. Part IV

President Lex Luthor sat back in his very comfortable, very expensive chair, looking amused. This young (21? 22?) child had been able to sneak into the Oval Office of the White House, with Batman. Actually it looked like he had just appeared. This boy had proceeded to lecture him concerning an upcoming galactic battle (yup, it was about two years since the last big thing, they were due), and was telling him what to do. Luthor was not one to be lectured by anyone about anything. If it had been anybody else, Luthor would have killed him.

However, Luthor did have spies in useful places. He was the president, after all. And his spies told him that there was a large battle coming up, dealing with cross over realities. And they told him of something else. Of someone, from what could best be described as a higher level of existence, and extremely powerful, to lead the armies of "good" against the armies of "evil." Extremely powerful. But Luthor had dealt with powerful enemies before, and persevered. Surely he could deal with a child such as this one. If anyone was going to lead this army, it would be Luthor. Especially since he wouldn't have that Primary Colored Prima Donna and his Black Garbed Edgar Allan Poe Reject friend to stop him.

"Look, Mr. Hendrickson," began Luthor as he stood up. "I appreciate your concern, and the sacrifices you have made, but this is a job that I excel at. I lead people, whether as a corporate head or as a head of state. I understand that you will be going 'underground' for this, and be bringing some of our best heroes. The plan, as you have described it to me sounds exceptional. But I really believe that I should be leading and coordinating the defense of our planet, at least. And I am going to. As President of the United States, that is my job. I am not going to take orders from somebody who did not have powers until a couple of days ago, and who is barely old enough to shave."

Craig smiled at the President, really savoring the moment, staring at the smug man. "Look Luthor, lets get a few things straight. To me, you are nothing more than ink and paper. You are a character from a comic book. A villain, no less. So trying to impress me with your position is not going to help." Luthor's grin faltered. Evidently his spies had not impressed upon him exactly HOW Craig knew of his world.

"That's right. Every dirty deal, every stupid one liner to Superman, everything you have ever done has been catalogued and seen by my people back at home." An exaggeration, but mostly true. "I know exactly what you are, and what you can do. I am also not 100% sure that you are not part of what I am supposed to be fighting. But I don't want to topple governments, and you are pretty smart most of the time, so you won't screw up a lot. Also, I can't wait to get home and see how you screw this up, cause Lex, you always screw up." Luthor started to fume at this, looking to find a way to shut the kid up and to demonstrate his "power."

"Oh Mercy, could you come here for a minute," asked Craig. The bodyguard walked in, wary. Craig pointed at Luthor and asked "Mercy, who is that man?"

Mercy turned and her face was one of incomprehension. She had no idea who Luthor was, despite the fact she had served him faithfully for years. Even Batman was impressed. "I don't know, sir."

"Thank you dear," replied Hendrickson with a smile. "You can go now." Craig waited for her to leave before he continued.

"Don't worry, once she left, she remembered everything. Now I could threaten you with death if you don't do exactly what I tell you to do, but I won't. What I will do is this. I will make everyone, everywhere, forget who you are. I will make your company as if you never existed, and transform it into a charitable institution with no other outside interests. You will have no enemies and no friends. Even the Kryptonian will not know you.

"As for you, I am going to make you a pig farmer in Nebraska. You will be adept at it. And then, I will leave you your memories and your ambitions, but take away the majority of your skills and talents that allowed you to achieve this office. In short, you will remember what it is like to be so powerful, and you will desire to be that powerful again, but you will be without the means to achieve it. I will condemn to an American Nightmare in which you can't achieve your goals of world power, no matter how hard you work. You will be insignificant. I will even take away your nerve so you can't bring yourself to commit suicide. And then I will set it up so you will live for a LONG time.

"I am a kid, Luthor, but one with a job to do. If I screw up, everything goes down. You may do okay in corporate board rooms and against intergalactic tyrants, but you got nothing when it comes to threats like this. You do it my way, or I am sending you to the bench. In Nebraska. Your call." Craig turned and started to head for the door, then stopped and turned. "And Luthor? If you try to make a move once this whole things starts, while I am otherwise occupied, I will get you. I have more senses then you know of, and one will always be directed at you. Oink, oink."

Craig and Batman left the room, but instead of walking into another part of the West Wing, they were "in between," once of the many traveling dimensions. They could have instantly transported to the Batcave, but Craig did not want to goof around with those powers any more than necessary.

"Impressive," said Batman. "But can you back it up?"

"Doesn't matter," replied Hendrickson. "He thinks I can and will. For the first time he has met someone who he perceives to be more ruthless and powerful than he is. He has encountered one or the other, but never both. He'll play nice." With that, the two stepped back into the real world.

Superman sat in the Watchtower. Every so often, Superman drafted a letter to his wife and his parents. After the Doomsday debacle, Superman wanted to ensure that he left something behind to those he cared about most to inform them about how much they meant to him, and why he did what he did. They were kept in a secure location, and upon his death, information regarding these letters would be sent to fellow Leaguers who he could trust, like Diana and Bruce. It would be their responsibility to make sure that these letters got to their necessary recipients. Today, he would write one more letter, in addition to the other two. This one to Pa, because he had been in war. He would understand better than Ma or Lois, because they had never had to deal with anything like this before. And whenever Clark had a problem, he went to him. It had been he who told him to put on the suit. Pa had never steered Clark wrong before, and Superman thought that maybe he would best be able to handle this confession.

_Pa-_

_If you got this letter, I have moved on...probably for good this time since I probably will have been killed in Hell, running interference for a guy named Craig Hendrickson. Its not often that Superman is a diversion for somebody else. But this guy Craig may be the only chance for pulling it out. But he can't do it alone. Therefore, I gotta help out. _

_Craig is a good man from another reality. In the days and weeks following the battle I am sure that the media will send out all sorts stories about Craig, who will probably disappear after the fight is done. But what the media won't report, which is for the best, is that Craig is from what is known as the original existence, or the Mother existence. This existence, or Craig's earth at least, has no magic, no superpowered heroes or villains, no extraterresrials. But they can "see" into our existence, and every other. They are the reason that we are here: they had to bleed these talents and skills into our world for fear that they would destroy everything unwittingly._

_Craig knows, and thus I assume anyone who would care to find out knows, everything about me and our world. Or all the things that matter. He has seen me at my best and at my worst. And I am cowered by that. Scared even. All those people, not only seeing me, but inside of me. I am a little terrified. _

_I think a lot of that has to deal with the anger and wrath I feel towards the reason I am going to hell with Craig. I told you about how I crossed over to another world to do battle. Well the...entity I fought will be there. Waiting for me. Now I have never truly HATED anything or anyone, ever. Even Doomsday. I wanted to stop him, I was prepared to kill him. But I never hated him, especially as he was without a conscious thought. _

_But I hate Apocalypse. I hate him with every fiber of my being. He has no respect for life or death, only power, and only his own. And he wants to kill me. I know that. And in hell he will try. And in hell, I will do my best to make sure he dies, and it will probably take everything I have._

_But even now, my hatred is not so blinding that I can't see what it is doing to me. I have tunnel vision. Its why I sent Lois away and have not seen you. If I don't get to apologize for that, I want to now. But know that I did it because I feared that if I did not my anger would consume me to such a point that I would do something I would regret. _

_But my fight is not the only fight that we will have in Hell, not even the most important fight. Craig is going to go after what seems to be the head of this whole mess. By himself. And I think he knows he is going to lose. I think he knows that the best he can hope for is to delay and injure the enemy so that we can turn the tide enough to prevent the plan from being followed through._

_He is just some guy who wanted to go to school and eventually live a quiet family life. Now he has powers of immense magnitude. And it won't matter because he is going to die anyway. I know that I went through something similar. But at least I was not denied a life or the chance of one. This kid has just started his opportunity. But he is going to give it up so that others have the shot that he will be denied._

_And he is going to die. Die a death that might deny him a heavenly reward. Its not right. He is a good man and he deserves better. _

_And I am scared, that when he is called to do battle, that there might be a moment where he could be saved by me, or by something I could do, and I won't be there. Cause I will be too focused on Apocalypse, my hate multiplied by my surroundings. _

_And then I would be damned. _

_So Pa, if you get this letter, do not share it with Ma or Lois, cause I don't know if they could bear it. And if I do come back, I am going to burn it. But if you do get it, pray for Craig. And for me, that maybe I didn't lose my soul in Hell._

_But I promise you this. Whether I die or not, I am going to stop Apocalypse. One way or the other, Apocalypse will not blight any existence ever again. I swear it._

_I love you, Pa. I always will. Hopefully I will be on the other side when you get there._

_Your son,_

_Clark_

Constantine was back in his flat in London, rummaging through his things. Finally, he gasped when he found the item in question. Pulling out a stone blade, he admired it in the halogen light provided, and then pocketed it in his coat.

Constantine loaded up on three packs of cigs and a new lighter. He moved towards the door and looked back at his apartment and its disorderly state. If he died there would be few who noticed, save Chaz and Zatanna. But maybe, just maybe, if he could pull this off, he wouldn't be such a bloody wanker and a waste. Maybe he would make up for the girl, and Zatarra, and his other multitude of sins.

"$%& it," whispered Constantine. "Lets beat some demon arse."


End file.
